


his only reason

by theonlyreason



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: :(, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Michael, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cuddling, Fluff, Goodbye Sex, Hair-pulling, Hot Sex, M/M, Muke - Freeform, Shower Sex, Top Luke, michael on writing the only reason, rimjob, sad!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4019440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonlyreason/pseuds/theonlyreason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there's a reason why 'the only reason' was gender-neutral</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_I’m gasping for air, like lungs filled with water. I’m at the hint of desperation to break free out of a crowded box. I’ve reached the point where I’ve ran out of tears, but I can’t help the feeling of sadness creeping inside my chest, eating me alive, and all I want is to free myself, to sleep it away. But it’s all my brain ever runs through. And I start pulling at my hair, making it stop. But it gets worse. Make it stop. Please make it stop—_

_“Michael?” I feel pairs of eyes land on me, slumped on an interviewee couch, staring at my worn-out boots._

_I shift in my position, straightening as I mentally rack my brain to remember which part of the conversation we were on._

_“On writing The Only Reason,” the interviewer crosses her legs from her side of the couch. “So was it really just you?”_

_I nod my head slowly. “Just me,” I murmur._

_“So what’s the story?” She gives me a teasing grin. I would’ve missed Calum snickering beside me if I made one sound, but I heard it clearly. Surprisingly, the interviewer didn’t seem to notice. Or care. I don’t know. Ashton, on the seat in front of us, gives me a reassuring smile, but the way his eyebrows rose up slowly told me, _'Don’t fuck this up.'_ Yeah, right. My gaze lands on the person beside him: Luke. Luke who had a sudden interest on the dusty carpet we were stepping on. He wouldn’t even meet my eyes. Of course he couldn’t. The song is about him._

_The interviewer nudges her head gently, urging me to go on. “I wrote this song about…” I begin. I rub my sweaty palms in my jeans, leaning back in my seat as I think of something to say. “It’s pretty heavy, like emotionally, and lyrically. I don’t know, I was… I was a bit of a wreck at that time—” The second it leaves my mouth, I instantly regret it. Her smile widens tamely. Of course this was juicy stuff for her. I can even hear the slot machine noise as if she hit the jackpot. She leans forward eagerly. “I was… no, I wasn’t really a wreck. I—”_

_“Hey, wanna hear a great fact?” Calum interrupts. I take in a deep breath and nod in his direction as a sign of gratitude. “For those of you who wanted to know, the photo of Michael recording naked was to this song. Nearly destroyed our career.” The crew together with the interviewer erupts in laughter. Well, not the escape i was expecting but it’s better than nothing._

_A man behind the camera motions at his watch, signalling us to double time, and with that, the interviewer forgets about her almost gold and skips on to her next question. And not once did Luke lay his eyes on me._

* * *

The four of us were huddled in a small circle, each holding a notepad and a pencil. Album #1 Writing Commencement begins.

“I have an idea,” Ashton suggested to a room buzzing with excited murmuring. Calum suggested the four of us write together as a group, but that led to a bouncing debate between the crew saying it would either A) be filled with constructive arguments; or B) not do any writing AT ALL. Which made sense, to be honest. “How about we pair up, do a rotation. That way, two can brainstorm, we get more options. Yeah?”

That’s how I ended up being paired up with Luke, who had his back on the couch with his feet to the wall, fiddling with his pencil. I, on the other hand, was pacing the room back and forth, the lack of inspiration frustrating the shit out of me. “Fuck, I got nothing.” I said, tossing my hands up. “You?”

It took him a few minutes to realise I was talking to him. “Me?” He seemed oddly distracted.

“No, Luke. The lamp.” I said sarcastically. “Ground control to Major Tom,” I snap my fingers inches away from his face. “You good?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly lifted up his hand to set mine down. The unexpected friction caused me to flinch slightly, and I was sure he noticed. Which was weird because our usual shoving and teasing led our skins to graze every now and then, but I had never minded until that moment. Weird. Really weird. “Can I ask you something?” He said. I shook the thought away.

“Knock yourself out,” I said in the coolest and most unaffected way possible, sitting back on the couch in front of him.

“Have you ever kissed a guy?”

I freeze. “I gotta be honest with you that was not the question I was expecting.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“No,” I said flatly.

“Well, would you want to?” He asked straightforwardly. I was too taken aback by him i didn’t even notice my lips slightly parted. I press them together firmly and try to regain my composure. This couldn’t be happening.

“Are you…umm… gay?” I squinted at him.

“Just curious,” he shrugged. “So do you want to or not?”

“I don’t.. uhh, kiss boys,” I said slowly.

“Well, have you done it?” he asked. “How do you know you don’t if you’ve never done it, right?” Man, he was persistent.

“Since when were you so interested?” I asked.

“I think,” he said, standing up. “We should try an experiment.”

“I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no,” I said.

“C’mon. Then we’ll both know.” 

“Uh, I think I already do.”

“Let’s just try it. See if it works or not.”

“No.”

“Listen, it’s just one kiss. I won’t even tell.”

“No.” 

“Come here,” he motioned a hand. I don’t know why I did it, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of him.

“This is a prank, right?”

“Close your eyes,” he said. I did that too. I already had my eyes closed but I could feel him moving closer, his breath hitching nervously as it touches my face. He snaked his hand behind my head and I didn’t move. I even parted my lips out of instinct. And then he kissed me. And then I kissed him back. And then we were both kissing. He snaked his other hand to the side of my face and slid his tongue inside my mouth. I brought my hands to his waist and pulled him in and as soon as I could feel him getting hard on my thigh, I pulled away.

“So?” He asked, catching his breath.

I shrugged, shaking my head. “Nothing.”

“Really?” I shrugged again. “It sure worked for me.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” I nodded, walking past him and grabbing the notepad and pencil as I sat on the couch. 

“Well, that’s out of the way.” He said.

“Sure is.” I tapped the pencil on the blank sheet. God, this was more awkward that I thought it would be. “Gained inspiration from that?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s write something gender-neutral.”

I looked up at him, daring a teasing smile. “You make out with me once and now you want to write a song about us?”

“Very funny,” he scrunched his nose like he always does and sat beside me, our shoulders touching. For some reason, I liked it that way.

We scribbled in a few ideas for the next few hours, not bringing up the kiss whatsoever. I felt closer with him, though, physically. As much as I wanted to talk about it more, I knew better. Days passed and we still haven’t started on our final draft. We sat in front of each other, our foreheads almost touching. If I tilted my head up and moved an inch towards him, we could get back to kissing. Which I would much definitely preferred than sitting there painfully close and knowing I wouldn’t be able to do it. Of course I didn’t tell him that. Although every while, I snuck glances up at him, his eyebrows crossed intently as he brainstorms.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“What?”

“You’re smiling,” he gave me a crooked smile, cocking an eyebrow.

“Nothing special,” I shrugged.

“You’re thinking of making out with me, aren’t you?” He laughed. It was obviously a joke, but I knew he saw me tense. I flicked him off and shook my head, smiling myself. Yes. Yes I was thinking of making out with you. Please tell me you are, too. Please please please please— “You know you could do it if you want.” Well fuck.

I don’t respond straight away, instead I let my eyes flicker to his mouth. His tongue poked out to lick his lips and I felt my stomach dipping in anticipation. I swore the sound of my heart beating was echoing through the room. “Who says I wanted to?” I shifted.

“Will you just do it?” So I kissed him. Before he could even breathe out his sentence, I kissed him. Both of us more practiced than the first time. I cupped his face with my two hands and I was kissing him. And he was kissing me back. His hand rested on my leg, sliding it up and down I felt my jeans tightening. Luke worked his way to my ear down to my neck, sucking lightly as silent gasps escaped my mouth. 

He took his lips off my neck and I was panting like fucking crazy. “Why’d you stop?”

He looked around for a while. For a second I thought someone was coming over, but a playful smile filled his face. “Wanna go inside the recording booth?” He breathed against my skin.

“Okay,” I said. I didn’t know how I even got to stand up when I felt like my legs were turning to jello. I was first to head inside and as soon as I turned around, his hands were holding my face and his mouth was against mine. He pushed me against the cushioned wall and I had my hands buried in his soft hair. Our kisses were desperate and hard. Soon enough, so was I. “Fuck,” I moaned, bucking my hips upward I was pressed against him. And man, was he hard, too.

He grabbed me by the hips and pushed against me. I put one hand on his shoulder and gripped him by the hair behind the back of his head as we grinded the fuck out of each other. We were practically fucking if we weren’t fully-clothed. He had his eyes shut but he was panting heavily against my neck, making out with it. “Oh my fucking god, that feels so—” I whimpered.

Then the door busted open.

We both leapt apart, panting hard with uncomfortably tight jeans. The person behind the door was just as surprised as us: Ashton. He couldn’t even speak until Luke had to drag him back to the lounge and set him down on the couch. We sat on the couch facing him. Luke bit onto his fingernails, a habit he never seemed to let go off whenever he felt distressed. I started tapping on my foot nervously I felt like I got caught by my parents having almost-sex with my boyfriend.

We waited a few more minutes, giving Ashton the time he needed before he finally pursed his lips and took in a deep breath. “Please tell me I did not just see that.”

“He speaks,” I muttered. Luke elbowed me.

“Ashton—”

“Since when?” Ashton asked, cutting Luke off. It didn’t sound accusing. Just curious, lost. Definitely taken aback.

“A few days, like a week,” Luke said. “But that was the first time we ever did… like the dryhu—”

“Oh, God. Luke, just shut up.” I felt my face burning. He glanced back at me apologetically. He never knows when to shut the fuck up.

“Okay,” Ashton nodded, his face blank.

“Are you mad?” Luke asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Ashton shook his head. “No, no I’m not.” He took in a deep breath before finally saying, “We just need to find out how to keep this to ourselves.”

“That’s easy,” I scoffed.

“Yeah? The way I barged in on you two fucking each other’s dicks looked easy,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You two better give Calum a heads up before he ends up in the same misfortune as I did.”

“Oh, shut up.” I shoved him playfully, laughing.

Eventually, we did tell Calum. He didn’t seem to mind. _“Just no dicks in my sight, alright?”_ was his rule. Alright, good enough. Weeks passed and we still had a song to write. Luke and I were starting to get cozy, too. Occasionally, he would take me out for lunch. Fans didn’t even seem to suspect. They saw us, took a picture, I was with him. I felt like I got the better end of the deal, actually. He would hold my hand randomly and bring it up to his lips. It became a habit. The other two didn’t mind PDA unless it had anything to do with dicks. Calum loved reminding that. The funny thing was we haven’t even done anything mildly sexual since the day Ashton caught us.

It was starting to get dark when Calum and Ashton decided to treat themselves outside after finishing their second song. And of course, Luke and I weren’t allowed to go because we still haven’t even finished our first one. Much as started.

“Stay safe, alright, boys?” Calum said, taking his wallet from his pocket and setting two packets of condoms on the table. “Just in case you two need an extra.” Ashton cracked up at the gesture as the two of them waved goodbye, mocking us with fake tears.

Well, not that I cared when I had Luke spooning me on the couch, his arms wrapping me while he scrolled through his phone. I could feel the steady pace of him breathing it made me want to stay like that forever. I shifted in my position, so that I was facing him. His chest, rather. His eyes were still glued to his phone. I was feeling brave. I tilted my head and inched myself towards his neck and started leaving light kisses. I felt him tense. He moved his head to stop me. “Michael—”

“Luke?” I whispered, teasing. Reaching up again to continue where I left off, my tongue tasting his skin.

“We,” he breathed heavily. “We still have a song to write.”

“It can wait.” I slid my hand inside his shirt I felt his muscles tighten. 

“Michael—”

“Do you want this or not?” I asked impatiently, sitting up and sliding my hands up and down his thigh, making him part his legs willingly. A whimper escaped his mouth that practically made me want to rip his fucking jeans off and hear more of it.

“You know damn well I do,” he grunted, throwing his head back slightly as I palmed his crotch. “Fuck,” he said, lifting his shirt up and mine, helping me unbuckle his belt. We both fumbled for his zipper that we couldn’t even zip it down properly. “Man,” he laughed. “We’re like fucking animals.”

“Do you ever shut up?” I asked, my mouth meeting his to shut him up myself. He welcomed it eagerly. I reached to hold onto the back of his head so I could feel more in charge, kneeling with his body between my legs. When we both successfully slid our jeans off our legs, I felt his hand reach up to the front of my boxers, feeling my own, which was already half-hard. I reached down to his hands and stop him. “Later,” I shook my head.

“Oh, you mean there’s another one after this?” He raised an eyebrow and before I could respond with something half-mindedly funny, he was already shoving his tongue down my throat. I went from his mouth to his neck, hearing him pant out whimpers it was making it hard for me not to jerk off right there in front of him.

I left a trail of wet kisses on his neck, his hands gripping on my hair it turned me the fuck on. He swallowed a lump down his throat, his eyes shut tight and brows furrowed. I grabbed the waistband of his boxers and slid them down, my hands running down his chest until I graze it against his dick. Hard and throbbing. I remove myself between his legs and land on the carpet, kneeling in front of him. I wrapped my hand around his dick, kneading him delicately until I hear his moans getting louder and recurring. “God, you’re killing me,” he groaned. His head was still leaned back, resting on the cushion, but he ran his hand over my hair, gripping it.

I leaned my head down and flicked my eyes over to him— his chest rising up and down elaborately. My heart was beating so loudly in my chest as I pressed my lips lightly to his tip. Another whimper escaped his mouth and his grip tightened at the back of my head I felt him forcing me in. I dipped my head again, dragging my tongue from his base up his tip, tasting every inch of him. He used his free hand to caress his balls before I finally wrapped my lips around his shaft, my tongue pressed flat at his underside and moaning against him every time he made a sound. I bobbed my head up and down slowly, taking him all in. I gently shoved his palm off of his balls so I could suck them, and I felt his body tensing in pleasure as he grasped on my hair with both hands. “Fuck, Michael, don’t fucking stop,” he groaned.

“Don’t cum yet, okay?” I said, lifting my head up and letting my hand replace where my mouth was once. He nodded, his eyes still shut tight.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “that feels so fucking good.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me down to my back. “Your turn,” Luke panted, lying down on top of me as he grinded his hard dick against mine, forcing his tongue down my throat.

“Holy fucking shit,” I exhaled, breaking the kiss as I tried to catch my breath. Luke glided his tongue down my neck to my waist, sucking on my sweet spot. “I am so fucking gay,” I exclaimed. I felt him laughing against my skin, sliding lower until his mouth was in front of my erection. He flicked his tongue, teasing. Just as what I did to him beforehand. “Very funny,” I groaned, my hand clinging to the back of his neck.

“Yeah it is,” he said, licking me wet and moving his head up and down while his tongue explored me wildly.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, heat rising in my body as I panted out shallow breaths. I felt him stop. I tilted my head to look at him, heaving. “Why did you stop?”

“Can you…” He nodded to the table, I looked over and recall Calum’s little gift. “My bag, beside it. I’ve got some lube, too.” I reach over to the table, retrieving the condom and the lube. “Ready?” he asked, ripping the packet off with his teeth. I nodded. “Scared?” He placed it on him, squeezing a fair amount of lube on his palm, applying it. He stopped when he noticed I didn’t answer his question. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” I answered too quickly, nodding. He nodded, too.

“Okay. Lay back, keep your hips up.” I did as he said. He moved closer, his dick pressing hard against my stomach I just wanted him inside me. He lifted my knees to his shoulder one at a time, panting. “You sure?” I nodded again.

“Do it,” I said.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop.” He dipped his head so that his lips met mine. I felt him spreading my ass, entering slowly. I felt my breath falter, clutching to his tensed, sweaty arm that now supported his entire body. “How’s it holding?”

“More,” I said, my eyes shut tight. He entered more of himself. “Deeper, baby.”

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned. Soon enough, he found a quick steady rhythm to follow that both of us were panting and moaning like wild fucking animals. I took him by the back of his head and shut off our moans by pressing our mouths together. His tongue never seemed to laze around. I reached for my own dick pressed between our stomachs and pumped it up and down. He held onto my hand, guiding me while he thrusted inside me deep and slow. “Cum with me,” he breathed against my mouth.

“Luke. Fuck, Luke. I’m about to.” I gasped.

“Wait,” he panted, thrusting quicker. I let out a loud moan, throwing my head back as I caressed my balls and jerked my hand up and down my shaft. “Now,” he cried out, the sensation running on both our bodies as I felt both our stomachs tightening and the cum sticky in my chest. Both our chests. He gasped, letting out a final moan as he dropped himself on top of me.

We stayed like that for a few minutes until both of us finally caught our breath. “Wow,” he said, rolling off of me so now we’re both facing the ceiling.

“Yeah, wow.”

“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” he smiled, hoisting himself up. He offered his hand and helped me up. “Wanna get cleaned up? Then we can cuddle.” He wiggled his eyebrows. I shoved him playfully.

The next morning, I woke up to the heavy thudding of boots and an _“Oh, fucking hell! They actually used it!”_ The light switch turned on and I shielded my eyes. My head was pounding like crazy. When I tried to sit up, I couldn’t, realizing I was wrapped up in Luke’s arms, who was still sleeping soundly. I gently slide off of him and rubbed my face, squinting at the clock: 8:00AM.

“You two actually used it, that was a joke. I was supposed to get it back,” Calum whined.

“Will you shut up for one second? I’ve got a bitch of a headache.” I groaned.

“Hey, you have to get yourself together. It’s late notice but we’ve got a band meeting to attend to tomorrow,” Ashton said, entering the room and shaking Luke awake. “Up,” Ashton called out. Luke opened his eyes slowly. “Rehearsals.”

The entire day, I was left alone in my hotel room to rest while the others rehearsed. My head was pounding so hard I didn’t even notice I had my eyes closed for six hours until I felt someone sinking in my bed. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Luke sitting on the edge, holding a glass of water on one hand and an aspirin on the other. “You good?”

“Barely,” I said. My voice sounded groggy. I sat up in my elbows, popping the pill in my mouth and drinking it down with the glass of water in his hand.

“You don’t look so good,” he furrowed his brows, pressing the back of his hand on my forehead.

“Thanks,” I chuckled.

“That’s not what I meant,” he frowned. He knew I was joking. I took his hand from my forehead, intertwining my fingers around his until our hands fell back on my lap. He scooted closer to me, reaching for a kiss before I pulled back.

“I’m sick,” I shook my head. “We have a show in three days.”

He took a deep breath, burying his head on the crook of my neck. “It’s taking me all I’ve got not to kiss the shit out of your face.”

“Not helping,” I laughed. He lifted his head back up with a sad smile, bringing his palm to my cheek. I rested my head on his hand, enjoying every second as we stared at each other. There were no words needed.

“Get some rest, okay? I’ll come back tomorrow after the band meeting.”

“Tell me what happens, alright?” I smiled at him. He smiles back, leaning in for a kiss before realizing he can’t. So he planted a kiss on my hand instead. Like he always did. I couldn’t stop my face from turning red. I wanted to wipe that grin off my face if only he didn’t smile back.

For those hours I was left alone, all I could think about was that I needed him. I needed Luke. I thought of texting him, but I knew they were in their meeting with our publicist, so I shook the thought off. I was feeling better. I got excited for a second, thinking about the possibilities of spending the night with him again. God, he was the only thing on my mind. I needed Luke. I stared at the clock, thinking their meeting was probably over, so I did text him eventually.

_Feeling better. Can't wait to see you :)_

An hour has passed. I didn’t get a text back, but the message was read.


	2. Chapter 2

Something was wrong. There had to be. I waited. Another hour.

Two.

Three.

Nothing.

No texts. No calls. Nothing.

Then I heard the door open behind me. And I felt relief washing through me. It was him. I turned around with a huge grin on my face, excited to see him again, to ask him about his day. Except it wasn’t him. My smile faded quickly, and I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, like I was finding it hard to breathe.

“Hey,” Ashton said, half of his body inside the room as he peeked at me from the bed.

“Where’s Luke?” I asked straight away, standing up.

“He went out.” he answered flatly.

“Out? What do you mean he went out?” I scrunched my eyebrows. Something wasn’t right.

“Are you feeling better?” He sighed, ignoring my question. _What the fuck was going on?_

“Did Luke say anything?” I was hopeful. Of course I was. Less than a day ago he was just with me, beside me. Talking to me like we always do. Kissing my hand like he always does. Like nothing’s changed. I blinked back tears. I wasn’t about to cry in front of Ashton, but if I opened my mouth to speak one more time, I would have lost it.

He looked at me with sorry eyes. He shook his head. I took a deep breath, shaking the tears off me before they started escaping my eyes. “Cal and I were just about to have lunch.” His voice was intricate. Like if he said it any louder I could break. To be honest, I was afraid so. “Wanna join us?” I forced myself a smile.

Calum and Ashton took me to a nearby restaurant. They urged me to order my food but I only responded by shaking my head, so they ordered for me. Except I didn’t eat it, so they were forced to eat it themselves.

“I’d actually commit murder for an eggnog latte,” Calum whined.

“You don't have to do that. I think Starbucks takes cash now instead of heads on pikes,” Ashton suggested. Calum flicked a french fry on his face.

“Was it something I did?” I said, building the tension between the three of us right when they’ve decided to mess around. They both stared at me apologetically while I took in a deep breath, saving myself tears.

“Ah, Michael,” Calum solaced, “Don’t be like that.” It angered me. How they pitied me. How they pitied me when I didn’t even know what for. I felt lost and frustrated.

“Then tell me,” I said, my voice pleaded. “What did I do wrong?” Neither of them spoke. Calum was picking at the fries, avoiding my eyes while Ashton ran a hand through his hair, not looking at me either. “What happened in the meeting?” Nothing. “What? Neither of you will tell me? I’m gonna find out either way. So what happened in that meeting that’s fucking this entire situation up.”

“Luke asked us not to tell…” Calum spoke slowly, still not looking at me.

“What about me?” I scoffed. “I get to be the one not knowing what the fuck’s going on?”

“Listen, Michael—” Ashton said.

“No, you listen—”

“Look,” he raised his voice— stern enough to surprise both me and Calum. “Look,” he sighed. “We promised Luke not to tell. He might be the one to break the news to you, we don’t know—”

“Break what news? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The point is,” he ignored my questions. “You’re gonna want to hear it from him anyway. Alright? That’s as far as what you’ll be hearing from us.”

And it was as far as I heard from them.

I was ten minutes late for rehearsals that same day because I spent my day in my hotel room, staring at my phone until I lost track of time. I texted Luke once. Twice. All my messages were read. I called him and he wouldn’t pick up. I called him again and he dropped the call.

Once I got in the room, the three of them were already inside— Ashton sitting on his drum stool, spinning his stick in one hand while he scrolled through his phone on the other, Calum with his back on the floor, plucking the strings of his bass, and Luke who was sitting on a utility case, his back arched as he tuned his guitar. I walked up to him.

“Can we talk?” I stood a few feet taller. He didn’t look up, but he rose, strumming a string once before reaching behind him to pick up my guitar and tossing it to me.

“You’re late,” he said flatly.

“I’m aware.”

“Now get tuning.” He walked past me and stood behind his mic in the center of the room.

“What is wrong with you?” I raised my voice.

“Me?” Luke scoffed, turning back to me. “You’re the one who’s late for rehearsals because you couldn’t fucking leave two seconds of your problems out of this!” His voice was raised that sent chills down my spine. “Rehearsals are rehearsals, we don’t just skip it when we don’t feel like it.” I couldn’t tell if he was just really stressed or he just really hated my fucking guts. He never talked like that. None of us did.

In my peripheral vision, I saw both Ashton and Calum tense up. Calum raised his head from the floor, eyeing us, while Ashton sat uncomfortably in his stool. I could tell he felt like he was invading space. But he wasn’t one to leave the room to let us confront one another. Luke was right. Rehearsals are rehearsals. Ashton stood by that word.

“Luke,” Calum called out. Luke whipped his head back at him, who was still on the floor, but now had his elbows supporting his weight. Calum shook his head slightly, just close enough for me to miss, but I saw it. Luke sighed, walking to his spot and adjusting his mic. I blinked, putting one foot up on the utility case and started tuning.

The next day marked our last show for the year— a small radio show somewhere in LA. I decided to hype myself up for it, at the same time, respecting the distance Luke kept from me. I didn’t need it invading my head for the two hours of probably the best way to end our last show before we debut our first single. But surprisingly, within the show, while I sang my solo in ’18’, he stood near, bobbing his head up and down with a beautiful laugh on his face. It made me smile. Had I no idea, I would never have thought he had a problem with me. For those two hours, I was convinced everything was alright between us two. But that ended too soon when we reached backstage, out of everyone’s sight, where he shrugged my hand off his shoulder, getting inside the van without looking back.

That same night, I laid down on my room alone, staring at the blank ceiling. I heard footsteps outside, and when I peeked at the light poking at the door, I noticed a shadow passing by my room. Ashton and Calum’s rooms were on the other end, so it could only be Luke. I waited for his door to click shut before I opened my door myself, walking outside until my feet led me to his room. Why? I had no idea. But it didn’t leave me a choice when I was already face to face with his door, knocking on the wood lightly.

He opened it unguardedly, his eyes hinting panic when he saw who it is, swinging it shut again. I stopped it with one hand before he could close it in front of me. “No,” his tone was flat and uninviting. But I was desperate.

“Please,” I barely got the words out of my throat. We stayed like that for what felt like an hour, and he reluctantly decided to let me in.

“What do you need?” I tried to shrug off the bitter sound of his voice as I entered the room. He stood in one side of the room, evidently keeping his space from me.

“Answers.”

He sighed. “This is pointless—”

“Why are you doing this, Luke?” I cut him off. He didn’t dare look at me as he clenched his jaw, his eyes darting everywhere except at me. “I don’t know what I did,” I whispered. “Luke, what happened?”

“Please get out,” he said.

“Luke—”

“It doesn’t concern you, alright? It’s me. And I’m telling you to get the fuck out.”

“Please,” I whispered. Tears were slowly forming in my eyes and I didn’t even bother hiding them. He wasn’t looking anyway. “I don’t know why you just…” I drifted.

“That’s simple,” Luke nodded. “I needed something to get my mind off things. You were there.” The way he said them felt intentional. Like he meant to hurt me. The sad thing was it wasn't just a stab. It was a knife spiked in my chest, moving it around my flesh in circles, allowing me to feel every bit of pain. I shook my head. No, that’s not it. It can’t be it. But he only nodded, “You don’t get it do you?” His eyes pierced through me this time as he simply said, “I don’t love you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

I wasn’t sure if I needed to hear that, but I nodded. Then I dropped my gaze and I nodded again. Trying so hard to formulate his words into my head. _I don’t love you, if that’s what you were thinking_. I nodded again. All I could do was nod. “Alright. Goodnight, Luke,” I managed to let the words slip off. So did the tears. I wiped them hurriedly as I felt my eyes sting and my vision blurred. _I don’t love you, if that’s what you were thinking._

I darted back inside my room, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face that my chest started to hurt. I look back at the unlocked door and regret giving so much of myself to be left with nothing. I stripped down, tossing my clothes angrily and letting it land on the floor. I wasn’t exactly sure who I was angry with. Luke? For hurting me? Or myself? For letting him? It wasn’t even physical hurt. It was something worse. Somewhere in the soul. It ached where it was unseen. And I didn’t know who to call.

I stepped into the shower, turning the faucet on and letting the water rain on my face, washing my tears. I sobbed, quietly this time, with eyes shut as my hands gripped the faucet. My heart was aching and crying and I couldn't make it stop. I just wanted it to stop. It's always the ones who make you feel so safe and comfortable, as if they could never, ever hurt you. They do it the best.

“Michael?” I heard a muffled voice from outside the shower. But I knew who it was.

I splashed water on my face, taking a deep breath and trying my best to not look like I’ve been having a breakdown. I turned the faucet off. “In here.”

The door opened quietly and I noticed him freeze. “I-uh..” he stuttered, seeing me drenched inside the shower. And naked. How could I have missed that? “I can wait outside.” He looked away, exposing his neck in my direction.

“Don’t,” I said silently. “You can stay.. If you’d like.” I didn’t know why I was letting myself do this. Taking him back in, when not even ten minutes ago, he just told me the last thing I wanted to hear. I was torn between knowing it was a bad idea, but wanting him so bad it hurts and only he can take that pain away just for a moment. He hesitated for a millisecond, but nodded. He stepped in, slowly closing the door behind him. He took in a deep breath, lifting his shirt from his back as he stood in front of me, stripping down from his boxers, his clothes dropping lifelessly to the floor. I closed my eyes. He turned the faucet on and I felt the water sliding down my hair, my face, my body. Then I felt his hands pressed around the sides of my face carefully, pushing me against the wall and pressing his forehead against mine as the downpour soaked him, too.

Even with eyes closed, I could tell his lips were dangerous close to mine. “I’m sorry,” he breathed against my mouth. Then he enclosed that small gap between them. He would pull away every few kisses to say, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” And I believed those words because I wanted them to be true. I wanted to be comforted by those words. My tears rolled down with the water as I held his hands around me and nodded, “I know, I know, I know.”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he soothed, the shower not being able to fool him into thinking that my tears were hidden. He wiped them off with his thumb and kissed me again. And I let him kiss me. They weren’t rushed or forced. They were delicate. Genuine. It made me feel like I was made of glass. He pressed his torso against mine and I could feel him against the pit of my stomach, half-hard.

“You won’t,” I shook my head.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

He buried his face in the crook of my neck and started leaving light kisses. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed against my skin again. He sucked on it lightly, his tongue poking at my neck, causing a sound to escape my mouth.

“Luke,” I moaned, my hands gripping his hair.

“Michael,” he said back, still working his way around my neck. I could feel my cock getting hard between the two of us and it made me self-conscious. I was so vulnerable. We were both so vulnerable with the water showering the two of us. He motioned me to turn around, so I do, my hands stamping on the slippery wall. He pressed behind me and continued to kiss my neck from my back. I tilted my head and gave him more access to it. I felt his cold palms snake around my stomach, one hand circling my belly button while the other reached over to grab my throbbing cock. With one hand still pressed to the wall, I desperately tried to grab him with the other, holding a good grip on his hair and guiding him to places where I ached to be kissed.

With every whimper escaping my mouth, he pressed harder behind me, allowing me to feel his erection hard as stone from behind, arching his hips with a desperate need for friction. His right hand kept a steady rhythm on my hard-on while his left hand travelled between my legs, spreading them apart. A quiet gasp escaped my mouth when I felt his finger brushing against my hole. “You good?” he asked. I was panting hard but I managed to nod. He circled around it before slowly pushing in one finger, sending my body into complete ecstasy. I felt my knees buckle, but I gripped his arm and threw my head back to rest on his body which was still behind me. He let go of my shaft to do his own business, so I did mine while he prodded two fingers inside me. The patter of the shower was the only thing audible apart from our whimpers and moans.

“Luke,” I breathed.

“Hmm?” He continued to thrust in his two fingers inside me, and I was feeling close.

“I want you inside me.”

I heard him breathe heavily, brushing his fingers lightly before he finally got them out. He signaled me to bend over. I held onto the faucet and stooped as he positioned himself behind me. He gave one slow thrust as the two of us moan in delight. I used my other hand and proceeded with pumping at my own length while he fastened his pace behind me. The water was trickling down my back, causing his hands to dig through my waist so they wouldn’t slip. I winced at the feeling of both pleasure and pain.

“I-I’m close,” he panted.

“Do it,” I said.

With my word, he let out one final groan. I felt his body tensing against me, so i followed suit—coming at the shower tiles while he came inside me. He pressed me against the wet wall and turned the faucet off. All I could hear was the unsteady sound of our panting.

——

After drying ourselves up, I reached over to my drawer, handing him one of my sweatpants. We both climbed into bed, facing each other. There were no words needed. We were exploring one another’s eyes. Except he wasn’t exploring. He was lost, distant. I knew. I knew then that something wasn’t right. Before I could speak, he was already pulling himself off the bed.

“Where are you going?” I asked, sitting.

“I have to go,” he replied.

I stared at him as he collected his clothes on the floor. “You’re not talking about your room, are you?”

He stopped, looking at me apologetically and shaking his head. “Michael…”

“You said you didn’t want to hurt me.” We both heard my voice crack and he winced.

“I don’t,” he said. “That’s why I have to go…” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand. That’s the exact fucking reason you’re hurting me. Can you even _hear_ yourself? Just tell me what the fuck I did wro—”

“Can’t you see?!” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m the one with the fucking problem! I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt!”

“You’re not even making sense!” I raised my voice to match his. I was pretty sure we were waking up everyone on that floor.

He glared at me for being so goddamn stubborn. But I needed to know. I needed to know what was going on. He shut his eyes, his chest heaving harshly. “They’re setting me up on a publicity stunt,” he sighed. “With a girl. Not a boy. Not you. Our publicist thinks it’s good controversial promo for the sake of the band.”

I froze. He looked away. I parted my lips to speak, but no words come out. I was lost.

“Do you see now? We can’t keep this going,” he continued. I didn’t want to hear more of it anymore. It hurt too much to hear him say it. I restrained myself from covering my ears too hard I would fracture my skull.

“We can make it work,” I shook my head. My words were desperate and I could feel my lip quivering.

He shook his head, too. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s not—”

“Is it even worth it?” I knew that tone. He was giving up. He gave up. “It’s… It’s no use.”

I took a few steps to end up in front of him, and he shifted backwards. I stopped. “It’s not too late…”

“Michael—”

“I’m in love with you,” I blurted out.

It hurt me the most to think that it was ending that way. Not because he was saying goodbye. But because he didn’t want to stay. I knew. I knew when I wrapped my hands around his face hesitantly (because where exactly do you put your hands on somebody who has hurt you countless times?) I inched forward and pressed my lips to him, kissing him hopelessly. Kissing him to come back.

But he didn’t kiss back.

——

I shut my eyes and the world turned to darkness. I dreamt of how things could have turned out. If he never asked me to kiss him in the first place, would I still have felt that miserable? I shut my eyes and the world turned to darkness, because it was no different if I left them open.

“Is it a bad time?” I heard someone ask by the door. I spun my head and saw Ashton, fidgeting. I signaled him to come inside. “You okay?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

He winced. “Sorry.” I noticed him shuffling uneasily, like he needed to say something. I nodded my head slowly, urging him to go on. “It’s just that…” he trailed.

“Say it.”

“The song,” he held his fist with one palm, then the other, tapping his foot anxiously it made me want to tape him still and just get on with it. “The one you and Luke were paired up to write. Yeah, we.. uh… we need a follow up on that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” His words dragged on to the silent air. “Have you two been talking?”

“No.”

“Well, uh..”

“It’s okay, Ash. I think I’m old enough to write a song on my own.” I said. He looked at me reluctantly. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I… I know you are,” he nodded.

“I’ll have it by your room first thing tomorrow.”

He smirked, messing my hair with his hand. He thought I was messing. The second he left, I grabbed for a pen and opened up a notepad, scribbling down words that were forming in my head. Anything. All of the things I wanted to say but couldn’t, the words that wouldn’t come out of my mouth because my frustrations raced me to it. They were finally forming, coming to life on a once blank sheet.

The same day that night, I found Ashton and Calum slumped over the couch. Ashton had his feet up, the noise of the room being blocked out by the earphones glued to his ears. Calum had his back hunched, scrolling through his laptop with a guitar on his lap. I walked towards them and dropped the notepad.

——

It was a few days later when Luke was formally introduced to Taylor, a fresh Victoria’s Secret runway model. Our publicist explained how it was a good strategy for both of them in terms of their career. How the media would be more than delighted to buzz about the lead singer of the Australian band 5 Seconds of Summer and the youngest recruited Victoria’s Secret model going out for lunch. I had to admit, it did make sense.

Taylor was a lovely girl. She had long brown hair— unbrushed and covering part of her face, and a friendly smile. It wasn’t awkward for her, for a second I thought she was just really thrilled to “date” Luke, then I figured maybe she was just really professional. Luke offered a sweet smile, the same smile he gives out to fans and interviewees. He’s an absolute charmer, there was no way Taylor wouldn’t fall for him. Within days, they went from talking to each other in the studio to hanging out in restaurants, then later, his hotel room. And they were right, the media _loved_ it. I kept reminding myself it was all an act.

The day recording came, Luke flipped through the song I wrote. I was watching him while he read it, having the words pierce through him. I saw his eyes grow sadder, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t look. Of course he didn’t.

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

It never stops. It just gets worse. I slump on the corner of the room and let myself crumble, leaning my head on my knees. I ball my fists too hard my knuckles turn white, I grit my teeth as if they would break, nails digging through my palms, shutting my eyes as tight as possible, like maybe, just maybe it would hide me someday. Then I feel someone’s skin pressing against my shoulder. I don’t look up.

“You can't just sit here all day.” Then I tense up. I open my eyes and raise my head from my knees. I don’t look at him. But he’s here. He’s right beside me, shoulder pressed against mine.

“I’ve done it before. Never underestimate my ability to idle.” I hate how I responded. I hate how I’m acting like things aren’t turned into shit when they are. I hate myself like this. I hate how I keep trying to make myself hate him, but I can’t. I can’t hate him. I can’t bring myself to hate him.

We were both silent for a while. He didn’t even laugh. His breathing is shallow, I can feel it against my shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” I say to quickly.

No, I don’t hate you. I just need to know where you were when I needed you, when you knew well you were the reason I was falling apart. When you showed me how much you liked me and left me the next day. And never gave me a real explanation until three weeks after, blaming myself. Blaming myself for something I didn’t know. When I wake up every morning feeling like shit, and go to sleep at night feeling shittier, because I didn’t know who else to blame. When I could’ve blamed you. I could’ve blamed you for starting this bullshit with me in the first place. For setting me in a trap, and leaving me just like that. Like I never meant something to you. Like I was nothing but a page you wouldn’t mind ripping off your book. But I never did blame you, did I? Because no matter what you do, I could never fucking hate you. I loved you so fucking much my mouth wouldn’t even let me say these words. “No, I don’t hate you.”

He sighs deeply, putting his head down, running his hands through his hair and clutching it. “Would’ve made me feel less guilty if you do.” I don’t say anything. I stare back at the other side of the wall in front of us. “It’s easy, pretending to be one of them. You know, happy. So easy that sometimes I almost believe it myself.” I listen. I like him like this— talking, opening up. I even miss his voice, if that makes any sense. “You know I never meant to hurt you, right?”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“I don’t hate you. I…” I look at him, and he’s looking back. For once, he’s looking back. And it feels so strange. All this time I’ve wanted him to look at me, and now that he is, I’m the one who badly wants it to stop. “I can’t hate you.”

“I deserve it, you know?” He tilts his head, his eyes begging to make eye contact, but I couldn’t. I look away.

“That’s the thing, I can’t.” I stare at the palm of my hands. They were shaking. I close my fists. “How’s Taylor?”

“For starters, she’s not you,” he teases, grinning.

“Don’t say that,” I smile back, but it fades too soon. I guess I haven’t smiled in a while my nerves weren’t used to it. His smile fades too that I partly kick myself in the shin for letting it happen. I love seeing him smile. It’s so reassuring. It’s like for a second, his warmth pierces through all the shit things happening and everything is fine again. I think I need a bit more of it. But it’s gone.

“She’s okay. She knows, if you were wondering. I don’t think it bothered her.”

I look at him and resist myself from burying my face on his shoulder, imagining him holding me. All that I could think about is that I need him. I need his arms around me, need him to hold me and whisper that we’d find a way to be together. But I know it’s wishful thinking. Instead, I imagine him in bed with her. And she would ask what’s bothering him, and he’d tell. He’d tell her about me. About a pathetic boy who loved too soon. And she’d tell him she understands. She’d tell him it’s okay. Then she’ll make love to him and make him forget about me. He’s with her now. Even though it’s a publicity stunt, I’m starting to think he’s falling in love with her anyway.

She’s a nice girl, a great girl. I don’t blame him. He deserves someone like that. So I take up and courage and ask before I lose my guts, “Are you in love with her?” I don’t know what I’m looking for. Closure? Maybe. If he would just say yes. Then I’d stop. I’d stop trying. I’d stop hoping. I’d stop feeling like shit. I’d accept the fact that a person grows apart from someone they’ve had a significant relationship with, and I’m no exception. I’d stop. Because I would have answers. But part of me is clinging on to that last bit of hope that he would say no. “Thought I’d ask.”

He looks back at me, studies me quietly. And smiles a sad smile. “I don’t know yet.” _Yet._

I take in a deep breath, pursing my lips and begging it to stop fucking shaking. I clear my throat. “Are you happy?” I could see him hesitate. Like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing. But this is what I need. I need to hear the truth from him so I could stop making a fool out of myself. So yeah, closure it is, I suppose. “Listen, I want you to be happy. It doesn’t have to be with me. I just want to know if you are. So… are you?”

I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing down his throat, and he’s just looking at me, a delicate smile escaping his mouth. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then I’m happy, too.” I let myself say before my mind does something stupid. It’s a reasonable thing to say, it’s the right thing. I do want him to be happy. Him being happy makes me happy.

His eyes linger over me too long. He doesn’t speak. “I’d want you to be happy.” He finally says, looking back at me and nodding his head slowly. He clears his throat. “Can I tell you something?” I only nod. “Looks like you wrote the crowd favorite song.”

He smiles at me.

And I smile back.

——

“Guitar solo!” I grab for the mic, extending my arm to point at Luke for his grand scene during Out Of My Limit. The sweat glistens in our foreheads, our hair damp. The crowd cheers as the spotlight lands on Luke. Everyone is ecstatic.

He smiles at me.

And I smile back.

And maybe, even if our relationship didn’t work out after all, things will be alright. They always do. He’s my best friend. He’s always been. I tell him the details of my life I never get to tell anyone else. And I’d rather have that than lose him forever. Does it hurt? I’ve been better. But it’s not anything time can’t heal, not anything my heart wouldn’t make room for. I consider this a part of my life. A lover turned into a lesson. A permanent scar that needs a lot to put in to heal. So I let it heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into your life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or to just be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us." —Emery Allen_


End file.
